


Hey Angel

by GayprnLarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Fame, Fluff, Larry Stylinson Is Real, M/M, Mild Smut, Music, Religion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 22:50:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5644723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayprnLarry/pseuds/GayprnLarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story in which a guy named Harry Styles is living in New York and is an aspiring singer, obviously struggling, but as he thinks its time to give up, he meets somebody who he could only describe as the perfect man, Louis Tomlinson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey Angel

Have you ever had one of those nights where you wonder if you are meant to be an artist? Not a very specific question, but i'm sure you understand. One of those nights you wish you could be one of those people who have deep thoughts and post it on the internet, or maybe get noticed by somebody important, who can get you seen by the whole world.

Harry Styles is one of those people who gets those thoughts in his head almost daily. He always gets these thoughts that he is a deep person, who could be something to the world, not just be a person you pass by on the street, a person you pass by on the street and never see again.

He wants to be heard, he wants to be seen.

"Hey angel.... hey angel.." He says, hitting his head with the pen in his hand. The pen eventually got tangled into his curls which were becoming greasy and he didn't have the money for a good proper hair cut, so it was getting longer.

It was 3am, Harry wrote all his favorite songs in the a.m. Being awake at this time gave him that feel of creative writing, the ones where you say the words and it kind of hurts because its so deep and emotional.

He wasn't the best at writing songs, but when he felt it, he could write ten at once. This was Harry at everything, he either thought something through for months, or he just goes for it because...why not?

"What rhythms with hey angel? Who's the angel?" Harry asks, even though he is completely alone and if anyone were to see, he would look like a crazy person.

Harry had moved far from home to a small town in New York where he could live in a studio apartment, be free and even become famous. That was his plan and it had always been his plan since he was a teenager. Harry had a wanderlust soul, always searching for something that he couldn't reach.

He had always imagined himself on Ellen, or the top of the charts, somewhere where he could be remembered and leave a mark on this world. Where people would love him, and he could love every single one of them back. He wanted to be famous, to know the feeling of having "fans".

It had been over a year and none of this has happened yet.

Becoming famous wasn't easy, and he used all his hard earned money to move to New York, to eat, to have a warm place to sleep at night. He worked at a shitty restaurant, more like a diner, but oh well, that only had very drunk customers, or ones who are traveling. It was never busy.

His clothes were torn, faded and he couldn't grow a damn beard.

The night was dark, cold and a storm was starting now, Harry only had the light of his little lamp on his desk to brighten up the paper and pen that was under it.

This is where he wrote most of his songs, in his apartment, in the dark, on the desk, in a notebook.

In the mostly empty studio apartment, you could hear the soft tapping of each rain drop coming down, that calmed him so much and put him in a mood only tumblr could describe.

"Do you know the reasons why we look up to the sky?" Harry whispered to himself, leaning over on the desk with his long body and writing down each word as they flowed in and out of his brain.

He wasn't the loudest guy and he never really got what he wanted. He was average, mostly broke, and single.

As soon as Harry turned eighteen, he fled from his home with little money in his pocket and nobody to support or believe in him. After he came out as gay, none of his family cared what he did, they just wanted to make sure he was gone.

Harry is nineteen now, and this is where he is in life.

"Hey angel.." He said to himself, this was one of the many songs he had been working on. Usually he starts a song but can never finish it, it's always been like that. This was one of the reasons he felt he couldn't be famous.

 _Maybe if I formed a band, if I had a band, we could make songs together. We'd be the biggest band on the planet._ Harry thought to himself. He tries to find ways to be discovered, to be everything he had ever dreamed of.

Most of the time he doesn't believe in himself, he thinks that nobody would be interested in what he has to put out into this world. He's scared that the music industry wont want him, that nobody will accept him, just like his family.

_I have to be up in an hour._

His job starts at Four am. But he could never sleep properly; mostly because he only had a couch and no real bed in his tiny home.

Harry started to get ready, in his work uniform, he forgot to shower, to brush his teeth, but he fixed his hair, and put on cologne.

"Hey angel, do you look at us and laugh, when we hold onto the past..." Harry says to himself, then rushes to write the lyric in his notebook. He grabs his bag from under the desk, shoves his things in there, looks at himself in the bathroom mirror and fixes his little name tag.

"Harry Styles will be famous, in city lights, known globally!" He shouts to himself, throwing his hands in he air and adjusting his hair with his hands.

"One day, but not today." He sighs to himself.

One day.

 

The restaurant was nearly a mile away and Harry had to walk alone on the rain, as he watched everyone drive by in nice cars and a perky smile on their faces. He frowned and kept walking, clumsily stumbling in the dark, in each puddle.

The sun was barely peeking through at this time of day, which wasn't safe usually on this side of town, but Harry got used to it and carried something to protect him if he ever got lost on the dark of the night.

 _My shoes are soaked, the rain has ruined my hair, and I will never get paid enough._ Harry thought.

"Harry! Can't believe you're here this early today? Finally decided to take this job seriously eh?" Niall said, laughing lightly and nudging Harry on the side, jokingly of course.

"You don't even take this job seriously, the only reason you're here is to beg for a raise." Harry said coldly, meaning it.

"Hehe, anyways, I hear there's lots of people coming in today, flights are canceled from the huge storm! That means customers!" Niall said with joy.

"Finally more than two customers a day? How exciting." Harry said, mumbling to himself, getting behind the counter and putting on an apron and hat.

"Yeah, you won't have to butter up your boss with sex, you'll get real earned money!" Harry said, obviously he was in a bad mood because of his whole life as of right now.

"How'd you know?" Niall said, shocked.

"Only five people work here, the word gets around, Niall." Harry sighed, then turning the sign from "closed" to "open".

Immediately, the door was swung open my a small figure, walking in with a smile on his face.

He wore a suit, a blue suit with fancy shoes and had his hair done up all nice.

_We usually never get customers this quick, I guess Niall was right about the weather effecting everyone._

"What you got cooking here? Anything of the chefs choice?" His voice said, smoothly but also rough, which sounded really sexy, Harry thought.

The place was worn down and Harry knew it would have to be closed down in the next couple of years, they barely get enough money to survive the week with out being shut down.

"Niall! Start up the heat, we got a customer!" Harry shouted, looking behind him to Niall, who was as confused as Harry to why they actually had someone willing to waste their time here.

"You sure?" Niall said, rushing over to Harry and then making eye contact with the man on the other side of the counter.

"Sorry lad, we usually don't get ready until near five, you can come back in an hour if you'd like. The rest of the employees ain't even here." Niall apologized to the blue eyed man. He's so cute, Harry thought.

"No, I'll wait." He says, getting comfortable in his seat, as Harry just stood there, wondering what just happened and why this man is sitting there, looking back and fourth at Harry and Niall.

Harry sat there, as Niall called the other three into work immediately, and started to turn on the lights in the damn place.

"So, you work here?" He said, mentally face palming, obviously he works here, Louis.

"For 'bout a year now, yeah." Harry responded, with his accent still hidden deep in his voice.

"You from here? You don't sound very New York." He smiled.

"Yeah, I'm from the U.K, you too?" Harry asked, trying to keep he awkward conversation going, but he felt like he was failing.

"Yes, obviously, don't you hear my accent?" He said, quickly, sitting up and putting his hands together on the counter and acting like that wasn't suspicious.

Harry ended the conversation there, but the blue eyed man continued to interrogate Harry, even when he was about to walk away.

"So you're name is Harry?" He said, loudly, catching Harrys' attention before he turned around.

"How..?" Harry said softly.

"The name tag!" He jumped. Nice save, Lou.

"And you happen to be?" Harry says, getting more interested in this man.

"Louis, I'm Louis Tomlinson." He, Louis said, reaching his hand out to shake Harrys'.

"Nice to meet you, Louis. I must get to my job now-" Harry was cut off by Louis rambling.

"Do you write music? Are you a model or somethin'?" Louis asked quickly to Harry, looking directly into his eyes and Harry turned away as he blushed.

"That's a hard question-"

"No its not, do you write music?" Louis asked, with Harrys' hand in his, without even realizing it. The something in Louis mind clicked and he let go of Harrys' hand.

"Uh, yeah, it's not working out, might just quit with the music talk." Harry said, feeling sad as he answered the question.

"But it could, you don't have to give up." Louis said, trying to find Harrys' green eyes.

"Are you a customer or a business worker? Is there something you want from me?" Harry said, crossing his arms, getting sort of sad but frustrated at the conversation. But then, looking at Louis, he didn't feel so sad or mad anymore.

"Just wanted to keep a conversation." Louis replied to Harry.

The door was opened once again, two people barging in. You could hear the pouring rain and their boots as they made their way in.

"We got a call from Niall, why we here early today?" Zayn said, with Lily by his side. They were soaking wet and it was near five am, now.

"Just an early customer, Niall says we're expecting more today." Harry answers, Zayn smiles, actually enjoying his job, while Lily just groaned, not used to actual work.

"Where is Michael?" Harry asked, as Zayn walked behind the counter, as well as Lily.

"Guy is never here! Off in Austraia' some shit." Zayn replied, shaking his head angrily. Why couldn't he pronounce Australia?

After Zayn and Lily successfully arrived, more customers than they see in a day showed up, after near an hour. Louis was still sitting there, even though he was done with his food. He just sat there and tried to make conversation with Harry as he worked his ass off for the first time in a long time.

 _There is something odd about this guy,_ Louis. Harry thought, then shook his head, _you're just paranoid._

"How long do you usually work here?" Louis asked, right before Harry went off to serve somebody a big meal.

"What'd you ask? How long I work here?" Harry asked, with a confused look on his face. Louis nodded.

"Until four pm, you planning on waiting for me?" Harry said, laughing and obviously joking.

"Well I'd only have to wait eight hours then, might as well get more food." Louis laughs to himself, until he looks at Harry who has his arms crossed around his chest, obviously not getting the joke.

"You're actually willing to sit in that chair for eight more hours just to wait for me, you don't even know me!" Harry said, then walking behind the door to check on the food.

Louis sat there, patiently, with his hands together on the counter, looking like an absolute angel in the chair, and he waited, just for Harry.

Harry had no idea what this guy's obsession with him was, maybe Louis could get Harry famous? That's what he had hoped. But it was just a scenario that popped into his head, just like the dirty ones.

Niall saw no problem with it, maybe Louis just likes their food? Niall cooks everything himself, after all. He saw it as a compliment and patted himself on the back for it.

"Louis should come in here daily! He's gotten more food than anyone here!" Niall says, hitting Harry on the back.

Harry flinched, and then sighed, When will Louis leave? Harry thought.

"Why aren't you gone yet, don't you got a job, somewhere else to be?" Harry asked, wiping his hands off of his apron and then placing his hands on his hips.

"No place I need to be right now." Louis shrugged. What is my job? Should I make something up on the spot? Louis thought to himself, trying not to show that he was completely terrified and nervous.

"Do I have to call the police on ya?" Harry said, reaching under the counter, making his movements slightly, but obvious.

Louis was shocked and didn't know what to do, that's when he got out his phone and walking outside for a moment.

"That guy has been chatting your ear off, you okay?" Zayn said, since he had the shortest work hours he was taking his apron off.

"I'm fine. He's just... odd." Harry said, almost satisfied with his choice of words.

"Okay, well call me if any funny business happens, I'm going home." Zayn said, the walked out of the door, waving at Louis on the way out.

"Harry, its your fault for opening this place up before I got ready." Niall said, and laughed at my frustration.

After a few minutes of Louis looking like he was going to rip his hair out and throw the phone, he walked back in with a sweet smile on his face, looking at Harry with each step he took.

"My job only requires me to be there three days a week, and I'm exploring New York for the first time, sorry to intrude on your little restaurant here." Louis said, very calmly, almost too calm.

"I'll leave if that's what you want-" Louis was cut off by Harrys' words.

His mind was all over the place, he was attracted to Louis, no doubt, but he also wanted to kick him out of his chair, but also want to keep him closer because he's paying Niall and him with big tips.

"Yeah you can pay for that meal and leave." Harry said, quickly. He said it that way in hopes Louis wouldn't try to make a reply or come back.

"Yeah, okay, here's my number and the twenty dollars, see you around, Harry." Louis said, sliding money and a napkin with writing on it over.

Fuck.

For Harry, it seemed like Louis knew exactly what to say to make Harry all giddy and feel like puddy on the inside, and he sort of hated it. Harry thinks love just isn't for him, and that's why he can't write a proper love song, because he isn't destined for love and he thinks he never will be.

Well, that was his excuse.

Harry grabbed the paper angrily, and shoved it in his pocket, while Niall handled the money.

The rest of his shift felt like a never ending sea of gray disappointment. No more customers came in that day, the rain didn't get any better either.

At the end of the day, Niall counted the money they made of the day, even though it's Lily's jobs, she left early too. The boss is never there, and when she is, she's having sex with Niall.

"This is more money that we get in a week! Bring that Louis guy back! I'll cook him anything he wants!" Niall said, jumping in excitement. Harry sighed, grabbing his coat that he left there a while ago, and walking home.

All through out the stormy night, Harry couldn't get Louis off of his mind. He felt like writing another song; he was in one of those moods where he could write ten.

The first song that popped into his thoughtful brain was a song he called "Hey Angel" and for the past few weeks, he couldn't seem to finish that song, but that night, he did.

Harry sang it to himself over and over, it was a slow song, very slow with no beat yet, but he imagined it would be soft and sad.

It was now 9 pm and Harry remembered he had Louis phone number in his jeans.

It would be weird to call him, you would look clingy. Harry thought to himself.

He gave his phone number to you for a reason, Harry, you need to call him.

Harry laid on his couch, with his thoughts running back and fourth. Eventually Harry decided not to call Louis, to see if he'd come back to the restaurant or not. Harry didn't think it, or say it, but he wanted Louis to come to him, rather than Harry call up Louis right after he got his number.

The song reminded Harry of Louis, but more of his future than anything else.

If I had fans, a fandom, this song would be for them, but right now, I'm invisible.

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first chapter and this 'book' will be longer than the other Larry ones I have read. I've never written a fic on here so i'm hoping it works out! xoxo


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